First Step

Belly lanterns abrupt whilst coal embers stay afloat,
Peeling beauty with pliers, piercing happiness' throat.
Shrugging the gloom aura that ascends from the past,
Cause they said the future only holds what isn't meant to last.
Towards a certain path that He himself wasn't sure,
With his vision cracked and emotions hopelessly slurred.
It's all a blur but he faces the truth with open eyes,
The glum of the reaper spruced; apprised, charcoal coated skies.
Hailing ash as it's tears- cries; morbid for mercy,
Though the fruit falls far from the tree, is it still worthy?
A consensus of questions that worry billions out seeking,
Reaching for better but speaking of nothing when done sleeping.
Keep feasting, while others hunger for justice,
Not of the law but with cufflinks cause area 51 showed what JUST is-
Bleeding thoughts sit at an empty table, alone
Because the more ponder condoned... The more lonely you roam.
They said don't swim against the tide and watch your language,
But He spoke 95% of whats recited with anguish-
Left his past under rocks and crawled out to society,
A drunken stupor but he need not take any sobriety.
He made lighter B's cause beauty and bitch was reversed,
Slandered curves and taped words; together for better or worse.
He was an inspirational movement that most neglected to see,
Eye sockets bleached; confidence is a stain that managed to stay clean.

They said-
From the bellows of the heavens jolted a light to mother nature,
Prophecies whispered with flavor that this was our savior.
He would be cloned like us and speak like us as well,
From flesh to bone you couldn't tell from him being withered and pale.
Thoughts of this tale just reversed the constellational image,
As he was brought into this world, a gimmick, to be concealed with-
Cover up stories burn, acidic words of remarks,
Spent his part as a mark of nature unwanted; left in the dark,

"The Deed of good falls onto man,
But if prosperous souls diverge and ascend in another form-
We shall not heed into the fires of hell
For lucifer awaits the fall of man"

Civilization scrambles with mumbling gossip,
Asterisks; scarred from misplaced projects and wasted toxic.
broiled beneath our skin... Finding that purpose is misused,
Snotting tissue, quelled blues inking his pain of abuse.
No more eloquence; he refused to journey with good intentions,
Kept his pivotal pension paying his fortunate fame of attention.
Statured a muse for government smiles to reign,
While his soul, stained, looks through the window pain,*
.
.

"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase."

Most never accept the difference of formation...
Neglecting with segregation as ones far from the others generation.
Demonstration, determination one nation is to stand,
But it's not his nor his clan cause the fall of man is in demand!
Or so they said....
But ME being disfigured just shows and proves,
That in the end I know the truth and I know what to conclude-
But see the rest like THIS neglect cruise to opinions *not viewed,
But rather for the liking of acting cruel and forcefully rude.
But once the sands last drop of grain falls I shall contrite and through,
Cause me having a soul to subdue with what you do...
Extremely secludes what was reduced from my youth.
He above does not sleep so I grew to improve,
But again that just proves that I'm more HUMAN than you!

First lines mean a lot, especially when they are in a cryptic sense like yours in this written, and when so convoluted they stand out, begging for clarity. lol

Straight way we are immersed, hitting the ground running so to speak.

This was paced well and the flow was on point, making this piece a precise as each word was placed well, not much wasted.

Flow was unwavering from the start to the end with some brillant imagery and mataphors. This was riddled with them, but always in control. I liked this direction.

I like the story here and even the verbose presentation felt like it suited the piece. You have a flair in your writing, and it's important, it's what separates you. But be careful not to lose your reader and yourself. There is a tendency to overwhelm with an onslaught of imagery and I know I've done that myself. As writers we become attached and loyal to our phrases and words. Although when we read them separately - they may be beautiful and grand, when you step back and look at a piece as whole, they may get lost and create confusion. I'm guilty of doing the same thing and defending, but with practice and thinking about the process of writing I've come to learn that sometimes less is more.

Going back to this piece -- There are a lot of interesting snippets here and I like a poem with an effortless rhyme and surprising turns of the tongue.